


Second Circle of Hell

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Basically everything terrible, F/F, F/M, First Time, Internalized Homophobia, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24716035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Quinn navigates sex, love, and relationships.It doesn't go great.
Relationships: Quinn Fabray/Noah Puckerman, Quinn Fabray/Santana Lopez, Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez/Brittany S. Pierce
Comments: 55
Kudos: 83





	1. Never Been Kissed

Quinn Fabray has never been kissed but she intends to change that soon.

It’s the summer before Quinn’s sophomore year of high school and it’s the best summer of her life, at least for a while. She’s finally convinced her parents that she doesn’t need vacation Bible school and she certainly doesn’t need to go on another mission trip.

This summer Quinn is fulfilling her lifelong dream of becoming a cheerleader by going to cheer camp. She’s shaken off Lucy and fully embracing her hot, blonde potential.

The other girls are nice if not ambivalent and Quinn does her best not to take offense that most of them ignore her. _Most_ of them ignore her but Santana Lopez and her best friend Brittany seem to take some kind of shine to her. Maybe it’s just because they’re all in the same grade, maybe because Santana wants to keep her enemies close since Quinn is her main competition to be captain of the Cheerios, but whatever the reason is Quinn is glad to have someone to talk to.

“He is just _sex on a stick_ ,” Santana says one day while fanning herself and referring to the only boy there, a senior with sandy blond hair and huge biceps named Jason. They’re sitting around a picnic table surrounded by pine trees at lunch, but no one is eating.

Brittany nods with a vague expression on her face and Quinn shrugs.

“He’s alright. I bet he’s gay if he’s a guy a cheer camp though,” Quinn says evenly.

“No way I know he already fucked Lindsay,” Santana insists.

Brittany twirls a golden lock in her fingers while saying, “Maybe he’s the one who came into my tent when we were camping a few weeks ago.”

Santana waves a hand in the air to shush Brittany. “I’ll prove it to you. Let’s get everyone to go skinny dipping tonight and I guarantee he’ll hook up with someone. _Hopefully_ me."

“Suit yourselves. Our last practice before Coach Sylvester decides on head Cheerio for the team is tomorrow. I’m going to bed early,” Quinn says.

“Oh, lighten up Fabray. Just because you’re going to be a virgin forever doesn’t mean you can’t have any fun.”

Quinn just shakes her head. The fact of the matter is however confident she is about her newfound cheer skills she isn’t so confident about her new body.

Santana must have other ideas because later that night Quinn wakes up to a muscular body climbing on her and a hissed voice in her ear. She blinks her blurry eyes to see Brittany grinning down at her.

“If you don’t come with us out to the docks right now, I’m going to tell Brittany to pee on you and then I’m going to scream so everyone wakes up and thinks you still wet the bed,” Santana whispers harshly into Quinn’s ear.

“It’s true. Santana told me she installed a mind-control device in my head and now I have to do everything she says,” Brittany says.

“Ok _ok Jesus_ ,” Quinn says and shoves Brittany off of her. If Santana wants her to go out there, she will but there’s no way she’s undressing in front of all the other girls.

Quinn follows Santana and Brittany as they skip with their pinkies linked out of their cabin and down to the lake at the edge of the camp. Some of the other girls are already in the water, as is Jason. Piles of clothes are in random clumps on the dock. Quinn sits down on the doc, wrapping her arms around her knees and pulling them to her chest. She’s grateful for her silky red pajama shorts and matching button-down short-sleeved shirt.

She watches Santana strip and can’t believe the way the full moon glints off her toned abs. There’s no hair in-between her legs and Quinn swallows a lump blossoming in her throat. She’s been watching Santana all summer, but she just thought it was because Santana was the best cheerleader there. That doesn’t explain the amount of real estate Santana has taken up in her head, though. 

Quinn has fantasized about everything from rescuing Santana from a gang of violent men to singing to her in the rain. She was sure it was just a fascination with her new rival. Now that she watches Santana stretch naked, the way her perky breasts look in the dark, Quinn worries it might be something more. She bites her lip hard to stop the thoughts and looks away.

Santana grabs Brittany’s hand and they jump into the lake to join the other laughing cheerleaders.

“Hey ladies,” Jason says with a waggle of his eyebrows.

Quinn sighs and watches the stars.

Giggling splash battles ensue, and Quinn dozes off, her head drooping over on her knees.

“Fabray! Quinn!”

Quinn is startled awake by Santana’s yells.

“Where is everyone?” Quinn asks with a yawn. Everyone else is gone; Santana is floating in the dark water alone.

“Pussies all went back to bed. Brittany ran off with Jason,” Santana bitterly says.

“Guess he’s not gay.”

“Guess not. Now that everyone’s gone come get in the water with me,” Santana says.

“I’d really rather no- “

“You can keep your underwear on prude. Come on it’s so hot out. Don’t leave me in here alone, what if I drown?” Santana asks with false sweetness dripping off of her voice.

Quinn rolls her eyes but stands and slips her shorts off. She turns away from Santana to remove her shirt since she doesn’t have a bra on. She wraps her arms around her chest as she turns back to the Santana and hurries to jump into the water so it will cover her up.

“ _There_ ,” Quinn says, spluttering as she comes back up to the surface. “I went skinny dipping with you. Can you leave me alone now?”

Santana’s teeth look sharp as she grins at Quinn before dunking her head under the water and disappearing.

“What are you doing?” Quinn yells. “This isn’t funny!”

Quinn feels a sharp tug on her leg before Santana pops up next to her and shouts, “Shark attack!” She then splashes a huge wave at Quinn causes lake water to rush unpleasantly up her neck, into her mouth, and up her nose.

“Santana! Stop!” Quinn says, but she can’t help but laugh a little. Santana is cute when she gets playful like this. The devious little smile on her face is infectious.

_Her face is really close to mine._ Quinn notices with a nervous shiver rushing over her body. The water feels too hot all of a sudden.

“These are cute,” Santana says with a leer as she fingers the waistband of Quinn’s panties.

“You- you can’t even see them,” Quinn says with a cough.

“I got a good look when you took your shorts off.”

Quinn paddles herself backward until her body bumps off one of the legs of the dock. The hot feeling of the water settles in the pit of Quinn’s stomach. Santana follows her and says, “You know it doesn’t really count as sex if it’s two girls.”

“I don’t think…I don’t want to…why would you think I want to have sex with you?” Quinn says, attempting to feign innocence.

“Well for one I see the way you look at me,” Santana says in a low voice with a nasty gleam in her eye. “And for two…” and with that Santana slips a finger into the crotch of Quinn’s underwear and Quinn knows that she can feel the slick wetness differentiated from the lake water. Quinn groans and sinks her head against Santana’s shoulder embarrassed and annoyed at her body’s betrayal.

“That’s what I thought,” Santana whispers. “You’re wet for me already, just let me fuck you.”

“I don’t…I don’t…” Quinn is _panicking._ Good Christian girls don’t have sex at cheerleading camp, no matter how badly they may want to.

Santana is swimming sideways, over to the ladder, climbing out, and beckoning her. “Don’t think just follow me.”

Quinn is drawn after her like a sailor to a siren, flailing through the water. She can’t keep her eyes off of Santana’s perfectly sculpted ass as she follows her into the old blue boathouse with the ugly orange roof.

_Maybe just a little bit. Maybe just a little bit is ok. At least she can’t get me pregnant. Or give me any diseases. Maybe we can just kiss a little bit and it’s not a big deal. Maybe it’s ok. Maybe…_

Quinn is helpless. She reaches Santana and Santana grabs her hips. Quinn leans in, steeling herself for her first kiss, but Santana pulls back.

“No kissing,” Santana bites out and Quinn just nods dumbly.

_Kissing her would be pretty gay, I guess._

Santana kneels and pulls Quinn down with her. She clambers over Quinn’s body and pushes her down flat. The scratchy wood of the dock bites into the flesh on Quinn’s back but she barely feels it. Instead, she feels Santana’s hand groping and then yanking at her underwear. Quinn wiggles out of them and kicks them off. They land somewhere in the boathouse with a wet “ _thwack!”_

_It doesn’t count. It doesn’t count. It doesn’t co-_ Quinn’s internal monologue is interrupted by her own gasp as Santana jams her fingers inside of her. She probes around for a minute before she withdraws them and sticks them in her mouth before making a great show of sucking them off. Quinn shudders at the sight of Santana swallowing her arousal down.

Quinn whimpers and her eyes roll back into her head before Santana pushes her fingers back into Quinn, hooking and curling them upwards. Quinn doesn't know what she's doing but her body seems to as she clenches down around Santana's fingers and arches her back.

Suddenly Quinn knows it counts and it counts a lot.

_So, this is sex._

It doesn’t feel _bad_ it doesn’t _hurt_ like her mother had sworn it would. Santana’s fingers inside her feel _fine_. It feels adult and kind of scary but not _that_ scary. It just doesn’t feel like the best pleasure she’s ever experienced. It feels better than Christmas but not quite as good as chocolate cake. Maybe it’s because they aren’t married. Quinn had been told a thousand times that sex only felt good with your husband, on your wedding night.

But then Santana swipes at Quinn’s clit with her thumb and finally, a real spark of pleasure runs through Quinn’s body. Still, she has trouble relaxing. The dock is hard beneath her head and the water is noisily lapping around them, echoing in off the metal walls of the boathouse. Santana is nibbling at her throat and it all feels _fine,_ but it doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.

After a while, Santana leans back and says, “You can get on top if you want.”

“On…top?”

“It hurts less. If you ride my fingers you can control the pace and how deep,” Santana says, voice a little softer than it has been.

“Oh, it doesn’t _hurt_. It feels fine,” Quinn promises. “I just…I’ve never done this before. I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be doing,” she finishes apologetically.

Santana nods and then says, “Here you might like this better.” She slides down Quinn’s body. Quinn lurches up when she feels Santana’s breath, achingly hot on her sex.

“Oh… _oh_ ,” Quinn murmurs as Santana’s tongue dips inside her. She feels doubly wet and she can’t believe everything that’s happening. She blinks up at the ceiling of the boathouse and tries her hardest to stay calm as Santana’s nails dig into her thighs. Santana’s tongue sweeps over her clit and Quinn groans, lurching her hips hard but Santana uses an arm to pin her down and all she succeeds in doing is squirming up against her a bit.

_So, **this**_ _is sex._

Santana starts to shift and Quinn glances down to see Santana position her body over her hand. Quinn bites her tongue at the erotic sight of Santana licking and tonguing her as she humps her own hand. Santana’s breath picks up and her mouth becomes more erratic. After a few moments, she’s less licking Quinn and more panting and moaning into her crotch. Quinn can’t complain, though. It’s the hottest thing she’s ever seen.

All at once, Santana’s groans reach a high note, her body seizes up, and then she shudders hard once, twice, and then a third time. Her head slumps to the side and she breathes hard in and out. Then she starts to snuffle and shake a bit.

Quinn gapes down at her.

“Are you…are you _crying?”_ she asks in a whisper.

Santana shakes her head furiously, wiping her mouth off with the crook of her elbow and then using her hand to wipe tears off of her cheeks.

“ _No,_ ” she says weepily through tears.

Quinn doesn’t know what to do. Santana had been the one to come after her, to initiate all of this. Quinn wonders what she did wrong and misery settles in her stomach like lead.

“Santana I’m sorry,” Quinn says, trying to figure out the right thing to say as Santana crawls off of her and starts to stalk out of the boathouse. 

She pauses at the door to shoot a look back at Quinn and says, “You’d better not tell anyone about this.”

“I can keep a secret,” Quinn swears.

Santana nods shortly and then disappears into the night.

Quinn flings her head back so that it raps painfully off of the dock and wraps her arms around herself protectively. She sighs. She feels empty and engorged all at once.

She isn’t a virgin anymore, but she’s still never been kissed.


	2. the Damsel, for she did not Cry Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consider this your only tw for dub/non con for the rest of the story particularly this chap. i didn't use archive warnings for a reason.
> 
> also I absolutely stole a line of dialogue from pp3 and im not sorry about it

The second the sound Santana’s steps dissipate into the night Quinn rushes to cover her body up. Her hands shake while she dresses. She sneaks back into her bed, but sleep doesn’t come for a while. She closes her eyes trying to find something to relax her. In her mind, she starts reciting something that’s comforted her since childhood.

_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…_

Quinn oversleeps which is fine with her because it just means she doesn’t have to worry about making eye contact with Santana at breakfast. When she puts her signature cross necklace on for the day, it feels extra heavy hanging off of her neck. She stumbles through the group performance and her solo cheer routine doesn’t go much better. Quinn watches Santana nail everything from the steps to the stunts and something stuck in the middle of jealousy and longing settles in the pit of her chest.

“Q! Spice Rack! I need to speak with both of you. Report to my office at 1700!” Coach Sylvester barks at Quinn and Santana after all the routines are done for the day.

“1700 is that like, later than the night?” Brittany asks.

Santana smiles at her before giving her a gentle little nudge and saying quietly, “It’s five.”

For some reason, Quinn is compelled to look away. Something about how sweet and gentle Santana is with Brittany doesn’t sit right with her.

Quinn hadn’t planned on eating dinner anyway, so she spends the day finishing up her summer reading and packing her things since they’ll be leaving camp first thing in the morning. Finally, at a quarter ‘til five, she walks over to the cabin that serves as the administrative building of the camp. Coach Sylvester’s door is closed so Quinn folds her hands in her lap and crosses her ankles while she waits.

After a few minutes, the door to the office flies open and Santana walks out with a sour look on her face. She stomps off and Quinn stares after her bewildered because Coach Sylvester snaps at her to come inside and close the door.

“Do you know why every few years I like to make an underclassman Head Cheerio?” Coach Sylvester asks in an airy tone as she polishes a medal. Quinn looks for a place to sit but there are no other chairs in the office even though it’s a large room.

“No, I don’t.”

“Well Q, it’s because it makes one girl loyal to me for her entire high school career. I want that girl to be you.”

Quinn blinks at her coach dumbly. “I think Santana probably did a better job, today Coach.”

“Oh, she absolutely did! But if I make you captain then Santana will always be working to prove herself better than you. And you’ll know if you don’t get everything perfect then Santana will be waiting in the wings to take your job. She’ll always be on your heals and you’ll always be living rent-free in her mind. You’ll push each other. I for one can’t wait to witness the results.”

Quinn gives her head a little shake. “Santana’s my friend…”

“Well not anymore! She’ll be your frenemy at best. Besides you’re polite, you show up early and leave late. You’ve got the right look. Santana is very talented, but her image isn’t as polished as yours. Sometimes I wonder if her relationship with Brittany isn’t entirely appropriate.”

Quinn swallows hard.

_Her relationship with me is entirely inappropriate; we proved that last night._

Quinn shudders and tries to get the memory of Santana breathing on her neck out of her head.

“Congratulations Captain! You can see yourself out,” Coach Sylvester says.

Quinn stands and turns to leave but Coach Sylvester says, “Oh and Q?”

“Yes, Coach?”

“Make sure and start watching what you eat. Those uniforms can be _very_ unforgiving on a chubby figure.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“And don’t forget…you owe me.”

The next morning comes quickly. After Quinn puts her last bag into the trunk of her mom’s SUV, she hears a brash, “Hey Quinn!” reverberate across the parking lot. She looks up to see Santana striding toward her. 

“Here. In case you want to plan routines or trade workout tips,” Santana says, thrusting a piece of paper into her hand.

Quinn looks down. It’s a phone number.

“Thanks,” she says uneasily. Surely Santana is mad that Quinn was chosen for the captain spot, surely there’s an ulterior motive lurking in this supposed act of kindness but whatever it is Quinn can’t figure it out.

“Did you have fun sweetie?” Quinn’s mother asks as they turn out onto the highway and speed towards Lima.

“Sure Mom.”

“Did you girls stay out of trouble?”

Quinn leans her head up against the glass as the image of Santana’s naked body flashes in her mind’s eye. She doesn’t answer her mother. Instead, she watches the lines of yellow paint on the road stream into one long line as she begins to recite under her breath.

_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…_

The first morning of the school year Quinn nervously smooths her Cheerios uniform down before she goes downstairs. 

“Honey that skirt is a bit short to be wearing to school don’t you think?” Quinn’s dad says, glancing up from his paper.

“I have to wear it Dad. We have to wear our uniforms to school.”

“Oh, lighten up Russell,” Quinn’s mom says. “It’s a cheerleading uniform. Our girl looks as American as apple pie.”

Quinn’s mom winks at her and Quinn offers a small thankful smile back.

The first day back to school is nothing special except for Cheerios practice and that’s only special because after all the other girls leave (Brittany makes a big show of getting on a motorcycle with an older guy) Santana saunters up to Quinn in the locker room in only her bloomers and a sports bra. 

“You never texted me,” she says while staring Quinn down.

Quinn takes a step back. “Well, I never had any ideas for any routines.”

“You know that’s not really why I gave you my number.” There’s a dangerous look in Santana’s eye and she advances in. Quinn takes another step backward and her back hits the cold metal of lockers behind her.

“Well, why did you give it to me then?”

“We had fun, didn’t we?”

“Did we?” Quinn isn’t sure where this is going but the room all of a sudden feels unbearably hot while goosebumps pucker across her arms. All Quinn can remember at the moment is Santana crying after she finished and how sad that makes Quinn feel. Somehow it feels like a bad idea to bring that up to Santana right then.

“We did,” Santana breathes out, her face only an inch from Quinn’s. Quinn looks down at Santana’s full lips.

“Then why wouldn’t you kiss me?”

“Is that a big deal to you? Here I can fix that.” 

And with that Santana leans in and kisses Quinn. It’s gentle but only for an instant. Then Santana’s tongue is forcing its way inside Quinn’s mouth, wet and probing. Quinn sighs anyway as her stomach swoops and her knees get weak.

This becomes a tradition, usually happening once a week or so. It usually happens after Coach Sylvester has specifically pitted them against one another over something at Cheerios practice. She’ll scream at Santana for not smiling as wide and as prettily as Quinn or ask Quinn why she can’t do her splits as wide as Santana and then they’ll meet up in the locker room and Santana will shove Quinn up against the wall, stuff her hand up her skirt and Quinn will whimper and hold on for dear life.

“You should get a boyfriend,” Santana says one day after one of their trysts.

“Why would you want me to do that?” Quinn asks, trying to calculate in her head how many times she’ll have to say the Lord’s Prayer before she can sleep that night.

“So, no one gets suspicious.”

_That’s not a bad idea._

“Ask Finn Hudson out. He’s an idiot but he’s the quarterback.”

Quinn nods. “I know who he is.”

“Well you’re the head cheerleader, aren’t you? He basically _has_ to date you.”

When Quinn asks Finn to go get milkshakes with her that weekend, he gets the biggest, spacey look on his face. Quinn can barely wait for him to say yes so that she can turn around and roll her eyes.

Her parents insist the only way she can go on a date is if she joins the celibacy club at school. There is no celibacy club, so she founds one and orders the Cheerios to join.

It’s a lot of trouble to go to but it’s _nothing_ compared to the trouble she would be in if anyone found out about her and Santana.

_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…_

Finn is an alright boyfriend but his kisses taste like lunchmeat and his hands are far heavier than Santana’s.

Everything is fine for a little while.

But then one afternoon, while she’s being smothered by Santana’s hungry mouth, a cruel voice intrudes on their privacy.

“Holy shit I was just coming in here for a panty raid, but this is _much_ more interesting,” Noah Puckerman says with a leer. Quinn gasps but Santana just rolls her eyes, crosses her arms, and scowls at Puck.

“Fuck off Puck,” is all Santana says before stomping out of the locker room.

Puck swaggers up to Quinn and leans against the locker next to hers.

“I don’t think Finn would be very happy to know about his girlfriend being a dyke,” he says.

“Please Puck. Please don’t tell anyone, _please._ I’ll give you anything,” Quinn is shaking and tearing up.

“Anything? If you’ll whore out for Santana will you fuck around with me too?”

“No. I can’t do that.”

Puck takes out his phone. “Guess I’ll have to let Finn know what his innocent little girlfriend is up to then. After I tell Finn I’m gonna tell the whole school. They’ll start calling you Quinn Fabgay”

“No!” Quinn grabs at Puck's arm. She has to do something to shut him up. If her parents, if _anyone_ finds out about Santana her life would be over. “Fine. Follow me home. My dad is at work and my mom is visiting my sister. We’ll have a couple of hours before my dad gets home. He always works late.”

“Fuck yeah.”

Puck follows her home and before joining her on the porch he roots around in the back of his trunk for something. It’s a case of wine coolers. Quinn grits her teeth. She’s never had alcohol before but maybe it’ll make making out with Puckerman a bit more bearable.

He’s on her in a heartbeat when she closes the front door behind them, pawing at her breast, his mouth hot and slobbery against hers. He forces his tongue into her mouth until she squirms away.

“Why don’t you give me one of those,” she says, gesturing to the drinks he brought.

“Oh _totally_. These will relax you right away little Miss Uptight.”

Quinn bites her tongue and Puck hands her a glass bottle. She takes a huge swig. It tastes like Jolly Ranchers.

“Why don’t we take this to the boudoir?” Puck says with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Fine. Bring the drinks with you.”

Quinn chugs down the rest of her wine cooler before they even reach her bedroom. It tastes sweet and tangy and the carbonation pops pleasantly on her tongue. Puck rushes to hand her another one as they sit on her bed and she takes it gratefully. She could stand to loosen up a little bit if she’s going to have to keep making out with Puck and his slimy mouth.

“Can we just talk? Just for a minute?” Quinn asks as she sips.

“Sure, thing babe,” Puck says as he runs his hand up her thigh. “When did you and Santana start doing the nasty, anyways? Are you like, only supposed to be gay for Jesus?”

“Wait a minute. Why aren’t you asking _her_ to do this with you?” Quinn says as the incongruency dawns on her. Surely Puck would rather get it on with experienced and sexy Santana instead of her.

“Santana already puts out for me. One time she walked in on me and Brittany hooking up in the darkroom and we all had a threesome.” Puck says all of this and then holds up his hand like he’s expecting a high five. Quinn just groans and tips the rest of her drink down her throat. Her head feels a bit stuffy and foggy but a bit of euphoria streaks in between her ears at the same time. Her cheeks feel rosy and she can’t help but giggle. Puck is such an idiot.

“Now that’s more like it,” he says and leans her back into the bed. They make out for a while and the pleasant buzzing feeling between Quinn’s ears only grows. She doesn’t even think to protest when he drags her bloomers, and then her underwear down. At least she still has her skirt on. But then his fingers jab at her and she stops him.

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you _can_. Have another wine cooler.”

Quinn scrambles for more excuses.

“I’m president of the celibacy club. I took a vow. What about Finn he’s your best friend?”

Puck makes some speech about why there’s no point in being good throughout life and Quinn has to agree, she hasn’t been good since she started hooking up with Santana. Her head spins and her heart beats faster. Maybe she _should_ just have sex with Puck. Maybe she’ll like it. Maybe it’ll get her to stop fooling around with Santana.

Puck settles on top of her and she feels trapped. He’s so heavy that it’s hard to breathe. His arms come down on either side of her face and she squirms under him.

He unzips his fly and positions himself at her entrance.

“ _Wait,”_ she whispers but if he hears her, he doesn’t act like it. Instead, he presses his hips into hers and all the air rushes out of her chest.

The pressure between her legs is unbearable. It aches and stings all at the same time.

“Jesus fucking _Christ,”_ Puck chokes out.

Quinn can’t breathe. She jerks upwards and puts her hands on his chest. The painful jabbing in between her legs won’t stop and Puck is looming over her, grunting and making horrible faces and _she can’t breathe._ Something wet and slick and hot floods between her legs.

"Noah, _please,"_ she says under her breath. He doesn't hear her. Maybe she didn't even say it; maybe she simply thought it. It's getting hard to tell what's happening.

This is so much worse than what she does with Santana.

Quinn blinks tears back and tries to think about something else while Puck jams himself into her again and again. She slams her eyes shut and breathes through her mouth.

_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promise things will at least go a little bit more quinn's way soon
> 
> we meet a very special someone next chapter


	3. You Will Never Love Me Again

“Damn, you didn’t tell me you were a virgin.” Puck has just finished with a disturbing sound, pulled out, and is now staring down in between Quinn’s legs.

Quinn looks down. There’s a dark stain on the bed. She puts a hand on the inside of her thigh and her lip quivers when she pulls it away to see dark red blood coating her fingers. Quinn stares at it, bewildered. She thought she had lost her virginity to Santana but…

“I guess I was,” Quinn says absentmindedly, still not entirely understanding what’s happening around her.

Puck steps into her bathroom and then throws a towel at her. Quinn doesn’t react in time to catch it. She keeps staring at the red mess on her hand as the towel falls in a clump beside her.

“Well, this was fun and all but…” Puck shiftily looks around the room.

“Yeah. Yeah, um…you can see yourself out.”

Puck looks relieved and he makes for the door.

“Maybe we could do it again sometime?”

“Yeah, sure.” Quinn just wants him to leave.

After she hears the front door slam shut, Quinn slowly pushes herself off the bed and stands on wobbly legs. Her face turns bright red when she feels something disgusting and more viscous than blood drip down the side of her leg. So much for protection. White-hot panic runs down Quinn’s spine. He came inside her. What if she has AIDS now? She’d probably deserve it. What if she’s pregnant? Her father would kill her.

Quinn walks slowly to the shower. Her groin feels pulpy and aches. She turns the water up as hot as it will go and removes her uniform. She fills the sink with cold water and puts her stained skirt in the basin while the shower heats up. She stares at her naked form trying to ignore the smears of blood on her thighs. The gold cross around her neck is mocking her. Before she can stop herself, she grabs it and rips it from her neck, breaking the chain. She slams it on the counter and limps over to the shower.

The water scalds her deliciously. But after a few minutes, after all the blood has washed off her legs and run down the drain vertigo sets in. Something snaps behind her right eye and the walls of the shower start to spin and then compress in on her. She stumbles out of the shower and lands on her hands and knees on the floor of the bathroom, desperate for air.

There’s momentary relief but then even the bathroom is too small, the walls closing in around her. She can see Puck’s arms on either side of her head boxing her in, trapping her. Quinn crawls to her bedroom and lays on the floor panting. 

It’s better for a minute but then even her room seems too cramped. Quinn picks herself up off of the floor and quickly dons an old pair of grey sweats. She can’t get out of the house fast enough. She slams the door behind her, forgetting to lock it, and starts walking down the sidewalk. The open sky and horizon are less claustrophobic, finally releasing the pressure inside her chest.

Quinn walks and walks until she comes to the neighborhood supermarket.

_Chocolate milk…_

Quinn has a sudden and urgent need for chocolate milk. She ducks inside the store and the enthusiastic air conditioner makes her wrap her arms around her body.

While walking up to one of the small refrigerators Quinn is caught off guard by two handsome men embracing. The shorter of the two then throws his head back in laughter and kisses the other one affectionately on the cheek. They’re very obviously gay and together. Quinn’s lip curls. It’s just _so easy_ for some people isn’t it?

She follows them through the store, rapt. She’s never seen domestic gays in the wild before. She can’t help but think about what she and Santana do in the shadows and what she just did to keep it a secret. How she let Puck take her and use her just so people wouldn’t see her the way she’s seeing these two strangers, happy and in love.

“Dads! They’re out of avocado we need to go to the other store,” a girl with dark eyes, darker hair, and a crystal-clear voice says to the two men.

_They even have a family._

Quinn gets a better look at the girl and nearly chokes. She’s seen her around before. They go to school together. Quinn rushes to hide behind a display. She can’t even remember the girl's name. All Quinn knows is she’s very cute. She’s milder than Santana, who’s better described as sexy or gorgeous than pretty like this girl is. This girl is so short, small like prey. Her smile takes up her whole face.

The last thing Quinn wants is to do is have this girl recognize her, so she turns and legs it out of the store, hurrying to beat her father home. She does manage to get home before Russell does and she sets about making her favorite dinner, meatloaf.

Russell is pleased to get home to a set table and hot meal but when he tries to hug Quinn, she pulls away, disgusted at the idea of letting him touch her sullied body.

“Oh Daddy, I broke my cross necklace at practice today, can you drop it at the jeweler's to be repaired when you go into work tomorrow?”

After dinner Quinn goes upstairs, dragging her feet as she returns to the scene of her awful crime. Her chest feels tight as she desperately tries to drift off to sleep.

The next morning, she sees Santana sniping at Brittany about something in the hall between classes.

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Brittany is saying as Quinn walks up to greet them. Santana just shakes her head and Brittany walks off sadly.

“What was that all about?” Quinn asks.

“None of your business,” Santana says with a scowl. “Fuck off Nosferatu, don’t look at me!” Santana then shouts over Quinn’s shoulder.

Quinn glances back to see the girl with the two dads from the store. She whips her head back around to Santana.

“Who is that?” Quinn asks under her breath.

“Who?”

“That girl you just yelled at.”

“Oh, Berry. First name is Rachel or something. Her dads are a couple of fagg- “  
  


Quinn interrupts her before she can finish. “Santana! _Don’t_ use that language in front of me.”

Santana just rolls her eyes.

“How did it go with Puck by the way? Did you two have fun?”

“Something like that,” Quinn says but she’s not really paying attention anymore.

“Ah speak of the devil,” Santana says as Puck approaches them.

“Ladies. Hey _Quinn_ ,” he says as he leers at her.

“Not now Puck,” Quinn bites out, annoyed. Her cheeks flush and an angry snake starts to uncoil in her chest. How _dare_ he talk to her.

“He bothering you?” Finn says. He’s just walked up behind Puck.

“No,” Puck says.

“Yes,” Quinn says, at the same time but louder.

“Beat it Puckerman,” Finn says and wraps a protective arm around Quinn.

Puck smirks at them but slouches off.

For the first time in a day, Quinn breathes easier. This may be the first time since they started dating that she’s positively elated to see Finn and felt better thanks to his presence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this story will have some happy moments istg


	4. Salty

“So, are you going to tell me what went down with Puck?” Santana asks, for once just letting Quinn change after Cheerios practice.

“Nothing good,” Quinn says warily. She and Santana have been hooking up for a couple of months, but she still doesn’t know if she can trust her. Their fling is so down low it might as well be in Hell. Quinn still has nightmares about being found out, but she also has fitful restless dreams about Santana abandoning her for someone freer, cuter, and more experienced.

It’s hard to explain, to the point where Quinn doesn’t even bother trying anymore, the way she despises Santana but also idolizes her and crushes on her all in the same headspace. It’s all just too cruel. Quinn wishes she could just force herself to love Finn and only Finn, but her thoughts run laps around her head and always stop at Santana, the feel of her breath on her neck, and the twist and curl of her fingers.

“Just tell me. I’ve hooked up with him too you know.”

“I do know that. He told me.”

“That _fucker,”_ Santana says.

“He…we had sex.”

“Wait, really? I didn’t think you did that.”

_I do that with you, Santana_ Quinn thinks with a roll of her eyes, but she’s too embarrassed to say it aloud.

Santana seems to read her mind anyway and says, “And it doesn’t count with us.” – _Yes, it **does**_. Quinn thinks but doesn’t say. – “I didn’t think you’d do it with a guy…well until you got married. And even then, maybe not…”

“Well, I had to make sure he wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t really want him to go that far but he did it anyway and now it’s done.” Quinn doesn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Wait did you tell him no?” Santana asks in an alarmed tone.

“Yes, but I don’t think he- “

“There’s a word for that – hey look at me,” Santana interrupts herself to step closer to Quinn, grab her chin, and force her to make eye contact. “Hey, there’s a word for that Quinn.”

Quinn jerks her head back and shakes it, blinking hard and feeling stupid.

“No,” she says slowly. That sort of thing doesn’t happen to her. She’s a good girl. She could never, would never deserve something like that.

“No,” Quinn repeats more forcefully, shaking her head just as hard as she bites out the words. Quinn is uncomfortable with the way her voice trembles when she says, “He didn’t hear me when I asked him to wait.” 

Santana gives her a dark look. “Are you sure?”

Quinn opens her mouth and then closes it again. Something in her chest breaks ever so slightly. She wilts.

Her face must say it all because she can't bring herself to whisper, ‘No,’ even though she’s thinking it and Santana bangs the side of her clenched fist into a locker looking furious and hisses, “I’ll kill him. I’m going to fucking _murder_ him. I’ll cut off his dick and strangle him with it. I’ll- “ But whatever else she has in store for Puck, Quinn doesn’t get to find out because she cuts Santana off by kissing her hard.

Quinn hasn’t felt so overwhelmed by emotion in a long time. She’s been feeling especially numb the past day since Puck but all of a sudden, it’s as if she has firecrackers in her belly. She needs Santana to extinguish them because she isn’t sure she’s ready to feel this much. Quinn pushes into the kiss more as Santana’s hands fall gently on her hips.

When Quinn tries to shove Santana up against the lockers and slip her tongue into her mouth Santana pushes her back softly. 

“Not now,” she whispers. “Not while you’re upset. What are you doing tonight? Why don’t you come over for a bit?”

Quinn backs away as she wipes her own spit off her mouth, a bit embarrassed. She nods her head slowly. She’s never been to Santana’s house. Both the girls finish changing, and she follows Santana to her house.

During the drive, Quinn turns the radio off wonders to herself what exactly she’s doing with Santana. Typically, she doesn’t allow herself to think about these things, worried her parents might smell the guilt on her. But it’s a short drive and she’s vulnerable; she risks it

Is she in love with her? Is it just a crush? Is it just lust? What about Finn? He’s her boyfriend, after all. She’s not in love with him, she’s sure of that but when he shooed Puck away from her that morning, she had certainly been happy to see him. She looks good on his arm and isn’t that all that matters in a relationship anyway?

Quinn arrives at Santana’s home before she can figure anything out. It’s probably for the best.

“Quinn’s here, we’re going upstairs!” is all Santana shouts to her parents and brother when she slams open the front door. Quinn follows her to the second story of the home, taking the stairs two at a time. Santana makes to close her door once they enter her bedroom, but Quinn stops her.

“Can you leave it open?” she asks.

“My brother’s really annoying,” Santana says, but Quinn makes a face. “What if I open the window?” Santana compromises.

Quinn nods. “Thanks.”

They settle onto Santana’s bed and Santana puts Bring It On on the television, the only movie they can ever agree to watch together.

“You could tell someone about Puck. You could tell Miss Pillsbury,” Santana says after a few minutes.

Quinn sighs. “I just don’t want to talk about it anymore. Please?”

Santana grabs her hand and squeezes it. “Offer stands still for me to rip his dick off. At any time.”

That gets a small smile out of Quinn, at least.

After the movie, Santana gives Quinn a long hug and sends her home. When Quinn recognizes her mom’s car in the driveway, she can’t believe how happy she is. She leaves her bookbag in the car and runs inside.

“Mom!?” she hollers.

“Hi Sweetie, I’m in the parlor.”

“Mom!” Quinn tackles her mom in a giant hug.

“Careful Quinnie! You’ll spill my wine.” 

Finally, in her mom’s arms, Quinn feels safe and carefree, like a child. She knows the days where her parents can solve all her problems just by making a call to the school or finishing her school project for her are almost behind her. Quinn squeezes her eyes shut and tries to make the moment count.

“Your father told me you broke your cross necklace you got for your Confirmation. Do we need to have a conversation about taking care of your jewelry?”

Quinn slumps in defeat for the hundredth time that day.

She’s in for more bad news. Finn texts her later that night telling her he wants to join Glee club. She doesn’t even know what Glee club is, but she knows it sounds fruity. It sounds even worse once he tells her that it’s the school show choir. 

Her bed feels extra hard and unforgiving that night as Quinn tosses and turns in it. If Finn joins show choir then everyone will think he’s gay. If everyone thinks he’s gay, then everyone will think she’s gay and she’ll have to break up with him. If she has to break up with him, then who on Earth will protect her from Puck? He one else in the school doesn’t listen to anyone in the entire school but Finn.

Quinn tries to tell Finn as much the next morning in the hall, but he just won’t listen to her. She’s desperate and Puck’s already mauled away her virtue, so she even offers to let him get to second base with her. He appears to very strongly consider it but turns her down. 

“People think you’re gay now, Finn, and you know what that makes me? Your big gay beard,” Quinn spits out, trying to spell it out for him.

_Please, please, please understand for once in your life, please just do this for me._ Quinn begs in her head. Finn has other ideas. He tells her to “relax” and walks off. 

Quinn nearly screams. How can she relax? She’s the captain of the Cheerios, has to maintain straight A’s, has to chair the celibacy club _so she can date him_ , and on top of that, she has to fix her feelings about Santana, not let anyone find out about what she and Santana do in secret, and avoid Puck for the rest of her life.

She can’t help but yell at the next person she sees. “Eavesdrop much?” she snaps at the back of a short girl’s head. The girl turns. It’s the girl with the two dads, Rachel. Quinn grinds her teeth in annoyance. _Why_ is this girl turning up everywhere? The way she stares longingly after Finn…it all clicks in Quinn’s head. 

_She’s the reason Finn wants to join the stupid Glee club. She’s in love with him._

This won’t do. The last thing Quinn will stand for is to lose her boyfriend to the girl with two gay dads after he joins the choir to be with her. That’s like gay to the third power. 

Quinn draws herself up to her full height and sets her jaw as she marches over to her. She threatens her off of Finn, but Rachel tosses her head to the side and smugly announces that she and Finn have made a connection. She gives a little speech about how her star is rising and it would almost be _cute_ if it weren’t so obnoxious.

Rachel flips her hair as she walks away and then Puck does the only useful thing he’s ever done in his life. He throws a blue slushie in Rachel’s face and Quinn bursts into giggles. She can’t help herself and she instantly feels bad.

Neither of them sees Principal Figgins approaching.

“Teen child,” he says to Rachel. “Regina George,” he addresses Quinn. “No horseplay in the hallways. Detention. After school.”

The girls try and make their excuses, but Principal Figgins isn’t always known for his sound judgement. Quinn begs Santana to cover for her at Cheerios practice and Santana agrees.

When Quinn gets to the science classroom where detention is held, she’s just planning on keeping her head down and doing homework. She sees Rachel upon entering the room and bites her lip. Rachel’s soft pink sweater is stained blue and her skin has a smurfy glow to it. Her eyes are red, and Quinn can tell she’s been crying.

“I’m sorry about Puck. He’s kind of…the worst,” Quinn says as she sits down.

“What would _you_ know about it,” Rachel says bitterly.

“I just mean…I’m sorry.”

Rachel shrugs and Quinn bites her lip.

They have to stay in detention until five-thirty and it’s only three. Quinn finishes her math homework quickly. When she looks up Rachel is doodling something into a pink notebook.

“What is that?” Quinn asks.

“Just a treble clef and – wait why do you care?”

“I’m not the enemy Rachel. I’m just curious. We really don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” Honestly, Quinn is just bored, and sure maybe a small part of her still feels bad for laughing at Rachel.

Rachel gives her a long look. “I know you don’t know me. But I know you,” she says, seeming to choose her words carefully. Quinn just stares at her.

“You have my dream life. Well besides cheerleading, and celibacy I’m not incredibly interested in that.” Quinn snorts after Rachel says this. She doesn’t know the half of it. 

As she closes her notebook and stands Rachel keeps talking. “You have everything. You’re the most popular girl in school. You know I want to be famous when I grow up? That’s like being popular to the nth degree.”

“I…”

“You _could_ be kind you know,” Rachel says softly, and she sits down next to Quinn.

“I said I was sorry,” Quinn says quietly, and she knows her lip is trembling when she says it. 

“You’re the most beautiful girl in school too. I know I said Finn and I made a connection, but I didn’t really mean it. I know he’d never leave you.”

Strangely Quinn has the urge to correct her, to tell Rachel that she is pretty, and any guy would be lucky to date her while she herself, is a complete mess. It’s like emotional whiplash trying to fit all of that into a sentence and Quinn gets tongue-tied and gives up trying.

“I just…I had a bad day yesterday,” is all she can manage. She casts her eyes down.

Rachel nods and then pats her hand. Quinn pulls it back like she’s been burned. She wasn’t expecting Rachel to touch her. She pulls her gaze up and gets a good look at Rachel’s eyes. The black of her pupils is hard to differentiate from her dark brown irises and it makes them look like a teddy bear’s eyes. Her skin is tan, tanner than Quinn’s ever managed to get. There’s a pleasant strawberry scent wafting off her hair. 

_Why are girls so much more appealing than men?_ Quinn thinks in frustration. She pulls her head back but Rachel sort of follows her.

That stupid little tap on her hand is the kindest and gentlest thing Quinn has felt in what feels like a year.

There’s a loud rushing noise in Quinn’s ears and she’s very overwhelmed. She can’t stop staring at Rachel’s full lips. ‘You can kiss me if you want to,’ Rachel seems to be saying. Quinn can’t tear her eyes away.

Quinn takes a deep breath and cracks herself open, throwing caution to the wind. She just wants to be close to Rachel, to feel the sweet feeling she experienced when Rachel brushed her hand again, to connect to someone soft and vulnerable. Is that such a terrible sin? Maybe, but it’s worth it. Quinn closes her eyes and rushes forward kissing Rachel firmly.

It only lasts a split instant before Rachel gasps and pulls her head back.

“Quinn!” Rachel says as she pulls away.

“Oh God, oh I’m sorry,” Quinn says, horrified. _Why on Earth_ did she just kiss her? She doesn’t even _know_ her.

Rachel has turned a bright shade of red and she’s staring at Quinn, her mouth hanging wide open. Quinn slams her books into her backpack, accidentally catching a bit of her skin in the zipper as she hurries to close it, tearing a small cut in the soft flesh of her arm.

“I’m sorry,” Quinn says again before rushing out of the room. She bursts into tears when she reaches the safety of her car. What is _wrong_ with her? Is she losing her mind? She looks at the little smear of blood on her arm and absentmindedly lifts it to her mouth to lick the blood off. The salty taste floods her senses and somehow grounds her. She exhales a long breath out of her nose and then throws her head back against her headrest.


	5. Trouble at the meeting, Trouble in the hall, Trouble after

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote and posted this while drunk so definitely bring the feedback

Why is Rachel at this week’s celibacy club meeting? Is she trying to punish Quinn, to torture her? Quinn tries to act cold and aloof, tries to act like she hasn’t been thinking about kissing Rachel for days now. It…maybe works. Rachel asks where the boys are anyway. Quinn tries to pretend like it doesn’t crack her heart.

When they practice the immaculate affection, which Quinn really hopes will help Finn from premature ejaculating every time he looks at her, she isn’t prepared for what Rachel looks straight at her and says, “You wanna know a dirty little secret that none of them want you to know?”

Quinn can’t answer her. She looks away, positive she’s blushing furiously, certain that her fingernails are breaking the skin of her palms as she clenches her fists.

“Girls want sex just as much as guys do,” Rachel says, staring so obviously at Quinn she thinks she might pass out. Rachel runs out of the room.

“Well…well, that’s just unacceptable,” Quinn barks. “I’m going to go put her in her place!”

Quinn stomps out of the room chasing after Rachel. She catches up to her and grabs her by the shoulders, then shoves her against the lockers. She winces involuntarily at the clang Rachel’s back makes against the metal.

“Just _what_ do you think you’re doing in there?” Quinn snarls, trying to keep her voice down even though she’s enraged.

“I know Quinn.”

_Just who exactly does this girl think she is?_

Quinn’s lip curls. “ _What_ exactly do you think you know?”

Rachel pushes her away, just slightly, and stands up straight.

“I _know_ what you want,” Rachel says. Her eyes are dark

Quinn’s off-balance now. She staggers backward.

Quinn blinks at her trying to come up with the right words but she doesn’t even know what to say.

_Girls want sex just as much as guys do._

“You don’t know _anything_ ,” Quinn insists.

Rachel doesn’t put her hands on Quinn, but as she straightens herself out and starts to advance Quinn stumbles backward. The way Rachel follows her makes Quinn’s skin crawl. Rachel’s eyes are positively reckless.

“You like me, Quinn. You kissed me. You like me.”

Quinn’s so angry she can’t form words. She just mouths as Rachel.

“It’s completely normal you know. My dads- “

“I’m _nothing_ like _them_ ,” Quinn hisses. “I’m not gay. I’m just…”

Rachel stands in front of Quinn, almost victoriously. She puts her hands on her hips and looks smug.

“Whenever you’re ready why don’t you just let me know?” Rachel says, but she doesn’t smirk while she says it. To Quinn, she looks sincere, something about the look in her eyes makes it seem like she’s asking an innocent question. It’s still too much to stomach.

Quinn takes a deep breath. She takes a deep breath as she looks from side to side, ensuring that the hallway is clear. Her instinct is to take a hold of Rachel’s neck, very gently. She does just that and Rachel stares up at her. Her eyes almost sparkling, light reflecting off the dark brown, glistening and warm and welcoming. Something about them is safe like home base.

Rachel inches her head forward and Quinn tips her head down until their lips meet. It’s so soft and calming that Quinn is reminded of the healing balm she used to coat her lips when they were chapped after getting dehydrated from running for too long. Upon realizing the fact that Rachel is like medicine for her lips Quinn whimpers, sure in the moment, something's about to break.

But the ghastly sound of clacking footsteps cracks them apart. They both gasp, Quinn shoves Rachel away, and then she storms away towards the safety of her car.

Time passes, but not much.

Quinn is now obsessed with Rachel.

The lights are off in her room. It’s dark and she’s can’t come up with a reason _not_ to slip her hand inside her underwear. She first licks her fingers and then rushes them furiously over her clit. Though it used to be that she did this rarely, not she can’t help but do it frequently.

Quinn grinds her teeth until her cheeks hurt. Her free hand grips at her comforter just as hard as the fingers in her other swipe and press into her needy sex. She flexes her abs and curls her legs in so her hamstrings snap. Air rushes out of her gritted teeth and her sweat soaks her sheets as she comes in a frustrating twist. She breaks like ice, shattering into her sheets, a puddle, barely recognizable as human.

The universe deems to taunt her double. Rachel’s face passes across the horizon of Quinn’s mind’s eye and she cries out, cursing the whine that grows in her throat at the sight.

Quinn shakes and gasps as she tries to recover. She doesn’t d this often but when she does she likes to ensure that she’ll sleep well after, fully assaulting herself until she’s spent.

The next day is the pep rally. The routine the Cheerios do goes well enough, but it’s nothing compared to what comes next.

The Glee club performs Push It and it’s so suggestive and downright _sexual_ that Quinn is sure her jaw shatters as it hits the gym floor. Rachel has knee pads on. Quinn has to brush her hand over her mouth to ensure she isn’t drooling as she imagines Rachel on her knees in front of her. 

Quinn decides to try out for the Glee club right then and there.

“I don’t understand, is it a club that makes butter?” Brittany asks.

“Uh-huh!” Quinn lies, not even sure what Brittany is talking about but she makes her voice happier than she actually feels.

“Ok, great I’m in!” Brittany exclaims.

Santana is harder to convince but Brittany manages it by promising her she’ll teach all the dance moves she knows.

Once Santana agrees, Quinn teaches Santana and Brittany her father’s favorite song, I Say A Little Prayer, and they work out the choreography together.

“You ladies looked and sounded great!” Mr. Schue promises. Quinn is getting used to hearing how good she looks but she’s never been told she sounded good before.

When she leaves the choir room she bumps into someone while she’s not looking.

“You again!?!” Rachel says as she rubs the shoulder that Quinn crashed into.


	6. Locker Room Talk

Quinn backs up quickly.

“Sorry…” she offers halfheartedly.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Rachel says.

Quinn nervously puts her hand on the back of her head and starts to chew on her lip.

Rachel gives her a suspicious look as Santana and Brittany pass them by.

“What were you doing in the choir room anyway?”

“Nothing,” Quinn says, far too quickly. She isn’t able to stop her eyes from running up and then down Rachel’s body. There’s something holy about it, pure. Quinn looks away as her face heats up.

“Can we talk? Go somewhere maybe?” Rachel asks.

Quinn nods numbly. She doesn’t know what else to say. What else is she supposed to do? She’s been wanting to get Rachel alone for days now. She follows Rachel through the hall, through an alcove into the bright gym. Quinn wants to ask what they’re doing in there but Rachel keeps walking. Quinn’s white tennis shoes squeak against the hardwood as she tentatively walks after Rachel. 

Rachel goes into the locker room and Quinn pauses, wondering if she should whisper a prayer, before ducking into the room.

“I thought we could have more privacy in here,” Rachel says.

“Mhmm,” is all Quinn can manage to respond. She stares at Rachel’s legs because she can’t make eye contact with her. They look tan in her short navy blue skirt. For once she isn’t wearing tights.

“Why do you keep kissing me?”

This snaps Quinn out of her trance.

_ Why are you so kissable? _

“Why do you keep letting me?” Quinn snarls.

Rachel looks flustered now. “ _ Letting  _ you!? I don’t keep- “ but Rachel doesn’t get to finish her sentence because for what feels like the hundredth time, Quinn advances in on her and shoves her against the lockers. Their lips meet and this time it’s Rachel that surges forward to kiss Quinn hotly on the mouth.

Quinn can only think of lips and tongues and Rachel’s legs; Rachel’s legs and what’s in between them. She runs her hands hungrily down Rachel’s body. It’s not as hard as Santana’s somehow more inviting at this moment. 

Rachel trembles a bit as Quinn rips her shirt up, untucking it roughly. Quinn can’t stop kissing Rachel long enough to see what she’s doing so she’s just shoving her hands up Rachel’s crisp button-down blindly. Rachel’s skin feels soft and smooth and the way she shudders at Quinn’s touch tells Quinn it’s very sensitive.

When her fingers run over the cup of Rachel’s bra Quinn is so electrified that she bites down on Rachel’s lip  _ hard _ . Rachel squeaks and jerks her head away and Quinn finally comes up for air.

She pulls her hands out from under Rachel’s shirt, embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she breathes out quietly. Rachel’s bottom lip already looks terribly swollen. A drop of dark red blood is blossoming up over the top of it. Quinn’s teeth must have scraped the fragile flesh on the inside of her lip.

Rachel looks dark and hungry and she gives her head a little shake.

“It’s ok,” she says, while something like danger flashes from her eyes.

Quinn’s heart speeds up and goes flying into her stomach and her eyes get big as she watches Rachel’s tongue snake over the top of her lip to lick the blood off quickly.

Quinn doesn’t think for a moment, she just acts on the flicker of an instinct: that she should kiss Rachel’s bottom lip because it’s hurt and that’s what you’re supposed to do when someone is injured. She dips her head down to carefully brush Rachel’s cut lip with her own but Rachel deepens the kiss, moaning and breathing heavily and Quinn tastes delicious sweet copper blood on her tongue.

She needs more of Rachel, needs to be closer. She grips and tugs at Rachel’s shirt and shoves her tongue into her mouth. She paws and pulls at her and they stumble and shuffle over to the bench that splits down the middle of the rows of lockers. 

As they sink down to the bench with a thump, Quinn accidentally bites down on Rachel’s lip again and the flesh rolls tantalizingly in between her teeth. Rachel lets out a loud sigh of pleasure and grips at Quinn’s neck, her nails biting into the soft skin.

The air rushing in and out of Quinn’s nose makes a whooshing sound. It isn’t like this with Santana. With Santana, everything feels like it happens in slow motion but with Rachel, seconds are sliding too quickly into minutes. It’s as if Rachel might slip through her hands like sand through an hourglass. As another trickle of blood from Rachel’s lip runs into her mouth, Quinn can’t catch her breath.

Quinn pulls back, trying to blink and see what’s happening and Rachel throws one of her legs over the bench so that she’s straddling it. She pulls Quinn closer, dragging her in by the top of her Cheerios uniform. Quinn is more than happy to meet her halfway and when their lips reconnect she licks the blood clean. She swallows it without a thought having quickly grown to appreciate the taste.

With Rachel’s legs split wide in front of her, Quinn can’t help but slide a hand up Rachel’s skirt. When her fingers brush against damp cotton she pauses but Rachel scooches forward ever so slightly. Quinn is comforted by Rachel’s eagerness and starts to stroke. When her fingers graze over what she assumes is Rachel’s clit, Rachel emits a high pitched moan and Quinn pets harder.

Quinn’s hand is hot trapped between Rachel’s thighs but she doesn’t care. The entire locker room seems to have increased in temperature but Quinn would happily die there if it meant she could keep touching Rachel.

Again Rachel shoves her body forward and Quinn can’t wait anymore. She pushes Rachel’s panties to the side and shoves her fingers inside of them. She has trouble fathoming the amount of moisture her fingers are met with. The slickness reminds Quinn of something she forgot was forbidden, something tempting. She desperately wants to taste it.

“Wait,” Rachel whispers. Quinn withdraws her hand immediately and tips her head back so she can see Rachel’s eyes.

Rachel stands and practically runs over to the locker room door. She locks it and rushes back to Quinn. When she reaches her she straddles Quinn and her skirt rides up around her hips. Quinn wriggles her hand down in between her waist and Rachel and pulls her at her underwear again. 

“Oh just…” Rachel sounds frustrated and she stands and yanks her underwear down and off, leaving them in a wet little lump under the bench. She climbs onto Quinn’s lap again and her wetness rubs off on Quinn’s thighs. Quinn wonders how she’s managed not to start screaming.

She quickly puts her hand back where it was and revels in the full access she finally has to Rachel.

“ _ Please _ ,” Rachel breathes out.

Quinn knows exactly what she wants. Rachel shifts her weight to her knees and steadies them on either side of Quinn’s hips on the bench. Quinn hurries to offer her fingers up to her and Rachel wastes no time in slamming her body down onto them. 

Quinn gasps. Nothing's ever felt as good as pushing up inside Rachel does. It’s so wet, hot, and tight that Quinn thinks she might either pass out or wake up suddenly to realize it was all a wonderful and perfect dream. She starts thrusting up, desperate to get deeper. Rachel responds by matching her thrusts, riding Quinn’s fingers just as eagerly. 

Quinn is almost thrown off balance and she wraps her free arm securely around Rachel’s waist to stop them from teetering off the bench.

Their motions keep canceling each other out. As Rachel pushes herself up and down the rhythm pulls her away. Quinn decides she needs to do something to keep Rachel still so she can finally just have her way with her. She sinks her teeth hard into the side of Rachel’s neck and Rachel’s throaty moans seem to indicate she likes that treatment. Her skin is positively delectably between Quinn’s teeth.

Quinn pushes her fingers deep inside of Rachel and bites harder and every time she does Rachel’s cries get louder until they’re echoing through the locker room.

“Quinn... _ Quinn… _ ” Rachel pants, over and over again.

Finally, Rachel lets out one more harsh sound that’s caught between a shriek and a moan that makes Quinn’s stomach do summersaults. She spasms and clenches down around Quinn’s fingers and slumps against her shoulder breathing raggedly. 

Quinn can’t even begin to fathom what’s just transpired, all she knows is she loved every second of it. She can already see a dark purple bruise forming on Rachel’s throat, along with a few teeth marks. A flush of pride blooms in her chest at the idea of Rachel walking around marked by her for all the world to see but it’s quickly erased by shame and anxiety. What if someone found out? What if someone saw the teeth marks and put two and two together and learned Quinn’s deepest secret.

The thought makes Quinn nauseous. The room spins and she’s seriously afraid she’s going to puke on Rachel. 

“Move,” Quinn says panicked, shoving at Rachel.

Rachel stares at her looking surprised, confused, and a bit sleepy. Quinn pushes at her again.

“I’m gonna be,” is all she can get out. She’s worried if she speaks anymore she’ll throw up right then and there.

Rachel awkwardly pulls away and stumbles off of her still looking adorably bewildered. Quinn can’t appreciate the cute look on her face because she’s too busy rushing to a stall. She flings herself in front of one of the toilets and the hard tile of the locker room floor hurts her knees. 

Quinn’s retching is so loud as she empties the contents of her stomach into the toilet bowl she doesn’t hear the locker room door open and close but when she staggers over to the sink to wash her mouth out she sees that Rachel has disappeared.

“Guess we’re not going to get a chance to talk,” Quinn mutters as she eyes herself in the mirror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, faberry smut in the faberry story yay!


End file.
